Wish You Well
by Tate Langdon Fangirl
Summary: Hermione Granger chose to help the Order while Harry and Ron left to hunt down Riddle's horcruxes. Due to her status, Hermione is made to go into Hogwarts as someone else. Her mission is to work her way into the ranks of Slytherin House. Could Draco feel something for a girl who pretends to be someone else? Will Hermione ever tell him her secret?
1. The Hogwarts Express

It was the beginning of Hermione Granger's final year at Hogwarts. The war was still raging on and here she was, sitting on the Hogwarts Express to attend school while Harry and Ron were off destroying Riddle's horcruxes. She felt so useless. They'd even made her change her look and take a new name so that she could come back this year. The Order kept it a secret from everyone. Not even Ginny, Fred, Kingsley, or Moody knew what she looked like. All they knew was that Hermione Granger was no longer the same. Normally she wouldn't be so angry at the Order for keeping her in the dark, but they made her promise not to tell _anyone_ it was really her. She was to go into the school as a new student and would surely be looked into. They were going about this the wrong way, and she knew it. They'd find her out, and she'd die. Though Hermione was angry and alone, she was glad to be rid of her old look. Her hair was especially different. Dumbledore's plan would work eventually and that's what the Order was counting on, but even Dumbledore admitted he wasn't _always_ correct in his plans. The newest of these included Hermione pretending to be his daughter.

She didn't think it would work. The look was nice, but there was something off about it. Her hair was long, sleek, and dark red; much like the Weasleys. Her eyes were a bright blue and slightly squinty. Her face held a look of distaste and Hermione thought that if another woman were to glance at her, she would assume Hermione was glaring at her. The new nose was odd to her. Growing up in the Muggle world, Hermione saw her old friends go through nose job after nose job and none were as perfect as the results of this glamour. Hermione's real nose wasn't huge or obnoxious, but this was a new level of small. She thought it looked a bit like a cartoon nose.

Then there was her body. Hermione knew her figure was never _sexy_, but the new glamour was. She had boobs now, and they'd grown at least twice as large as her B-cup. She was slim, toned, tall, and had hips. Dumbledore had told her that her appearance would change to match his DNA. Whatever woman paired off with Dumbledore would've loved to see a child grow up and develop _these_ looks. Her mission at Hogwarts this year was simple: _befriend the enemy._ She was to get close to Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott in order to gain information. She would be Sorted in front of the entire hall just like her first year. _Great._

Hermione looked out the window and sighed. This was going to be the worst year for her. She couldn't even imagine what would happen when they looked into Dumbledore's past and discovered his affair with a Muggle woman. They'd probably destroy his grave site. Pinching the bridge of her nose, Hermione didn't notice when the door to her compartment opened. As she ventured to reality once more, Hermione saw none other than Draco Malfoy sitting across from her.

"Excuse me, but why are you in my compartment?" she said sternly. She was getting tired of his attitude already and he'd only been in the room for moments.

The blonde ignored her and turned to look out the window.

"Excuse you!" Hermione snapped. "Do you _know _who I am?"

Malfoy looked at her, seemingly shocked at her outburst. "Judging by your hair I'd say you're a transfer from somewhere in Ireland or Russia, yes?"

She shook her head. "No, I am not."

"I would say you were a Weasley," he smirked. "But your robes and obvious hygiene would suggest otherwise."

Hermione gave Malfoy a bored look and tried her best not to glare harshly at him. She had to pretend she didn't know him or the Order, and their plan, was doomed.

"I give up," said Malfoy. "Who are you?"

"That depends," Hermione laughed. "Who are _you?_"

"Darling, you must know who _I_ _am._" He chuckled.

"No, I'm afraid I do not." Said Hermione with a blank look plastered on her face.

"My name is Draco Malfoy," he said, holding out a hand.

"Darcy," she smiled. "Ebba Darcy Dumbledore."

Malfoy paled, looking sickly in Hermione's direction. "You're Aberforth's daughter then?"

"No, no. You misunderstand me." Hermione shook her head and chuckled. "My father is Albus Dumbledore and my mother is Dorla Burchosi. I'm a half-blood. My father recently died, you see. I'm meant to attend Hogwarts in his honor."

Draco suddenly wanted to be anywhere else. Looking at the young woman in front of him, Draco realized she was holding back tears. He didn't do well with crying girls. She was likely to be a Gryffindor as _he_ was. The thought made him sick. He was sitting next to a girl whose father had just died. A father whom he'd helped to murder.

"I've got to go." Draco said. "It was nice meeting you."

Hermione nodded. She needed to change soon anyway.


	2. Draco's dilema

After leaving the girl to herself, Draco rushed back to his compartment. He didn't think this sort of thing was possible. Since when had Dumbledore had any children? When did Dumbledore have a daughter so young? Why hadn't anyone heard of this? Numerous questions lingered in his mind as he opened the door.

"Zabini, you won't believe what I've just heard." Draco said darkly.

"Really, has Goyle passed his N.E.W.T. early?" laughed Blaise.

"Dumbledore has a daughter." Draco said quietly, lest anyone overhear them. He was still in shock and painfully so. He'd seen the look on her face. A look of pain from a woman who'd just lost a father. All the guilt came back just then. He looked over at Blaise. The boy was staring straight ahead with wide eyes.

"Blaise?" whispered Draco. "Going to say anything, mate?"

Blaise blinked and shook his head. "Dumbledore doesn't have children. Impossible. He's dead."

"She's our age." He said.

Again Blaise merely stared blankly with a pained look on his face. Draco could only imagine what was going through his mind. They'd both been involved in what happened the previous year. The only reason they weren't out fighting now was on the Dark Lord's orders. Naturally, they were required to inform the Headmaster of any drastic changes at Hogwarts. Changes like this.

"We'll have to tell him." Blaise sighed as he rubbed his eyes. "It's our job to tell him, and this will need to be investigated."

"Agreed, but shouldn't we wait until later?" pouted Draco. "I'm tired and I would love to eat at the feast before going to Snape about this."

"Right," Blaise sighed. "He'll probably know anyway. She's got to be Sorted if she's never been here before."

Draco nodded. His thoughts were conflicting at the moment and he had no desire to be stuck in them. He silently decided it best if he went back and bothered her for information, but he wasn't sure how well he'd be if she started crying again. Merlin knew how much he hated crying girls.

* * *

Hermione had been reading _Hogwarts: A History _when Malfoy entered the compartment without her permission yet again. She glared at him before closing the book and setting it off to the side.

"Something I can help you with, _Draco?" _Hermione said through clenched teeth.

"Of course," he replied with a cocky grin. "Why is it that Dumbledore never told anyone about you?"

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione as she pretended to be hurt over the question. He was obviously fishing for information from her and Hermione might _look_ the part of a dumb bint now, but she was far from it. She would put as much emotion into her voice as possible whenever he asked about Dumbledore and just hope that he'd get the picture.

Draco raised a brow at the girl's facial expression. She looked ready to cry, again. Merlin help him if he ever tried to be nice to a crying female.  
"Well," he began. "Dumbledore didn't ever say he had children. As far as we knew, the man was an only child. Up until Rita Skeeter published her book, the Wizarding World knew nothing of Dumbledore's two siblings; Aberforth and Arianna. I assume you know them as well?"

Hermione huffed indignantly. "Of course I know of Arianna, but I assume you know she died very young. I hadn't a clue that my father was so ashamed of me that he wouldn't speak of my existence. Also, uncle Aberforth has nothing to do with this conversation. You're just a nosy little prick and if you don't mind, I'd like to return to my book. Thank you and you can see yourself out of my compartment as the train is ready to stop at any moment."

Draco said nothing, but glared darkly at the redhead in front of him. He slowly got up and let her be. This time he wasn't going back either. It looked like she was just as unpleasant as the rest of the females in the world. Great, he'd have to get information out of _that._ Draco couldn't help but think that whatever Gods existed, they probably hated him. _Why would a girl like that ever go to Hogwarts at a time like this? _


	3. Sorting

Hermione was beyond nervous as she stood in back of the first years. She could already hear the people around her whispering. She mostly heard the boys talking about her figure and how she looked, and that sickened her. If there was one thing Hermione's mother taught her that she assumed she'd never use, it was that men can easily be manipulated by a pretty face and a curvy figure. Pout a little and they'll be putty in your hands, cry a bit and they'll instantly comfort you. Show interest and they turn into schoolgirls and flock at your feet.

Yes, Hermione could use this to her advantage. Shaking herself from her thoughts, Hermione focused on the Sorting.

"Dorre, Waylen," called McGonagall.

Hermione watched a young, scared, lanky brunette sit upon the chair and as the hat lowered to her skull, it sang out, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Inwardly smiling, Hermione remembered when Neville had gone through that awkward stage where he shook with fear whenever someone said his name. Whether it was a student or not, Neville was jumpy and having your name called from far away is scary sometimes.

"Du-" McGonagall stuttered, and her eyes widened at the name on the parchment. "Dumbledore, Ebba,"

The entire Great Hall went quiet when Professor McGonagall read off her new name. Blushing wildly, Hermione stepped up next to the woman and sat on the chair as everyone else did. She coughed slightly as the Deputy Headmistress had yet to place the Sorting Hat on her head. McGonagall mentally shook herself and placed the Hat on Hermione's head.

'_Ah, miss Granger. Fancy seeing you again, as you're supposedly dead and buried in Godric's Hollow along with Potter's parents. I assume you realize the dangers of the task you've chosen. Be warned, girl. This is no mission for the weak. Keep your head on straight, and don't let anyone distract you. Now, where to Sort you?' _said the Hat. Though Hermione knew she could only hear the Hat, she was still worried about someone hearing her thoughts. This was dangerous, especially for her.

'_I don't want Ravenclaw this time,' _Hermione thought. _'So you can just put that idea away, because it's never going to happen.'_

"Very well," the Hat said aloud. "Better be… SLYTHERIN!"

If Hermione thought it was quiet before, she was mistaken. As she made her way to the Slytherin table, she heard whispers all around and everyone was staring at her. Mainly everyone at the Gryffindor table was staring at her with open mouths and pale faces. It seemed as though no one but Draco Malfoy knew she'd be here. Speaking of which, she sat next to him and offered an awkward smile. He returned the gesture and turned back to his literature.

McGonagall coughed loudly and turned back to the list to continue on with the Sorting. At Slytherin table, Hermione and Draco were engaged in a heated conversation on which literature was brilliant or complete garbage. So far, Draco had deemed most of Edgar Allen Poe's work as unintelligent and secret, violent fantasies of the author. Hermione was busy defending the great author's name when none other than Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott came over to introduce themselves.

"No, Draco." Hermione snapped. "Edgar Allen Poe writes beauty, not monstrous garbage!"

"I happen to disagree, Ebba," said Theodore. "I think he was just insane and thought to put it on paper."

Hermione blushed and hid her face in her hands. "I hate my first name. Call me Darcy, that's my middle name."

"I think Ebba is a wonderful name," Blaise chuckled. "It's Swedish, you know."

"Yeah," said Hermione. "So who are you?"  
"My name is Blaise Zabini, the one and only most handsome bachelor in the entire country," said Blaise, albeit flamboyantly. "You can just call me Blaise."

Hermione laughed. "Well, that's lovely."

"Don't mind him, he's not right in the head." Theodore smiled. "Hi, I'm Theodore. You can call me Theo."

"Theo," Hermione smiled. "That's a nice name."

"Yeah?" he laughed. "I like to think so too."

Hermione smiled shyly and turned her attention to Draco again. His face was blank. His eyes held an odd stare, as if he were thinking too much. She knew that feeling.

"So, Draco," Hermione smiled. "You want to show me where our dormitories are?"

Seeming surprised, Draco blinked and nodded. Hermione smiled and walked ahead of him, and when Draco looked back, his friends were winking and making rude gestures. _Merlin, help me._

If he were being honest with himself Draco knew the girl was attractive enough, but one look at her and he saw through it. She was pure innocence and you could see it if you paid enough attention. Her body might look older, but that girl was definitely innocent. The look in her eyes gave it all away, and he just couldn't see her any differently than any other girl. There was something about her that was familiar, but she looked much like a lost child to him. Even as she swayed her hips every now and then while she walked, Draco just couldn't help but see her as a tiny seven-year-old with blonde, bushy hair and crooked teeth.

_Wait. _He saw her as Granger? That wasn't right. He figured he just felt regretful that Granger had died in his family home. The thought of her screams bouncing off the walls and his aunt Bella carving her arm made Draco cringe. Just because he didn't like her didn't mean she deserved that.

"Draco?"

"Uh, sorry?" said Draco.

"I asked what the password is," said Hermione. "You looked like you were thinking about something important. In fact I thought you were going into a coma or something."

"Oh, right." Draco chuckled. "Thestral."

Hermione stared at the common room in wonder. This was the part where she didn't have to pretend. She'd actually never been in the Slytherin common room before and in her opinion it was beautiful, but still eerily creepy.

"This is wonderful," said Hermione, still smiling. She looked over at Draco and noticed that he was watching her. _Okay, the common room isn't creepy. He is. _"Something wrong?"

"Ah, no," Draco smiled. "I just never saw anyone react like that. They usually don't like this place. They call it disgusting and creepy. You just seem to accept it. It's odd."

"I find that people should see through the exterior. It's a much wiser choice."

"Yes, I suppose." Draco said furrowing his eyebrows. _Merlin, she's not another Looney Lovegood is she?_

"Yes, well I'm going to head off to bed." Hermione smiled. "See you tomorrow."


	4. Pansy Parkinson

When Hermione finally found the dorm she'd be sleeping in, she gawked at the room. There was enough space to fit an entire army full of people. The beds were oversized and each had green silk sheets, along with wooden snakes carved into the bedposts. They were four-posters just like in Gryffindor, except much larger and outdone. She figured the Slytherins must've been used to luxurious beddings and being pampered so it explained why the dormitories were that way. Looking at each bed, Hermione saw that there were books or clothing scattered around most of them except the one at the farthest end.

It was a bit smaller than the rest, but Hermione thought it was perfect. She set her bag down on the nightstand and was about to sit down when someone threw the door open.

"I'm telling you, Daphne," said a voice she recognized as Pansy Parkinson. "That girl is not who she says she is. There's no way Dumbledore had a daughter. Kept it a secret, my arse. I bet-"

"Yes?" said Hermione in a demanding tone. "I'd _love_ to hear this."

Pansy froze and looked nervously at Daphne. "Well, we don't think you're Dumbledore's daughter. In fact, we think you're working for the Order. So you'd do well to keep to yourself, and stay away from Drakie. He's mine."

"I don't know what the hell you think you're talking about," she yelled. "And who the hell is _Drakie_? You'd do well to respect me. Have you any idea who I am?"

"Look," said Pansy. "We don't believe you for a frigging minute. _Draco_ is mine, and he's off limits."

"Leave it be, Pans," said Daphne. "He was just being gentlemanly and showing her where the common room was."

"Yeah, like I believe that." Pansy snarled. "Just don't get in my way, because Draco and I are meant to be. Shack up with Zabini or Goyle or something. I'm warning you now, stay away from him."

"Yeah…" said Hermione. "That's not going to happen."

Hermione ignored the glare that Pansy sent her way and went to tuck in to bed. She could deal with girls like that in the morning. Merlin only knew how exhausted she was from pretending to be shy and angelic and naïve around Draco Malfoy and his band of morons. It took all her willpower not to hex his gnads off at the dinner table just for breathing next to her. After he'd sat and watched his aunt torture her, and believed her to be dead, he showed no remorse. _That_ was exactly what she was here to fix. To get him to change and be good. To direct him in the right path, lest he turn out just as Riddle did.

She didn't even know if that was possible. He honestly didn't seem that bad, but it was only the first day of term. Another thing that came to Hermione's mind was that Snape seemed to hate the yearly speech at the beginning of term. Maybe he was busy with Death Eater business and couldn't be bothered with the students. Of all the men she'd met, Hermione never thought Snape would've been evil. No matter how many times Harry and Ron suggested he was uncaring and remorseless, she wouldn't believe it. Nor did she believe it now. Everyone had their own reasons for choosing sides of the war. Whether they be good or bad people, everyone wanted the war over. Including Snape.

Hermione sighed and rolled over in bed, hoping tomorrow would prove her theory was correct.

* * *

"_Do you think that you're something special? You think that just because the Dark Lord ordered us not to harm you, that you're better than us?" hissed Bellatrix. She was standing dangerously close to Harry and Hermione with a silver dagger in her tiny hands. Hermione was shaking and Harry was trying to calm her down. She'd just undergone a full four hours of Bellatrix's cruciatus curse._

"_No," Hermione whispered, hiding her face in Harry's shirt. "I don't think that at all."_

"_DON'T LIE TO ME!" the deranged woman yelled. "YOU THINK HE VALUES YOU MORE THAN ME?!"_

"_Bella, please," said Rabastian as he tried to restrain his wife. "The girl is tired and the Dark Lord needs them alive. Let them be for now, we have a certain Weasley to investigate."_

_Harry tried to hold onto Hermione, but she was determined to run at Bellatrix._

"_DON'T YOU TOUCH HIM!" she screamed. "STAY AWAY FROM HIM. WE'VE TOLD YOU ALL THAT WE KNOW. WE'VE TOLD THE TRUTH!"_

_Rabastian let out a hollow laugh. "You think this is about information? The Dark Lord wants you, and so he shall have you when he arrives."_

"_Hermione," whispered Harry. "Control yourself. It's not worth it. They're not going to kill Ron, the most they'll do is torture him as much as us. Hold on, Hermione. Hold on to what you have left."_

"_Harry, I have nothing left."_

Hermione awoke on the ground in a sweat. When she opened her eyes, there were at least thirteen girls standing over her and one of them was attempting to fan her off.

"Who are you?" she demanded. "What are you doing in my bedroom?"  
"For fuck sake, she's lost it." Pansy scowled. "I told you she was a nutter."

"Ebba, do you remember where you are?" said a voice she didn't recognize. "You're at Hogwarts. You're safe."

Hermione took a deep breath and shook her head up and down. "I'd like to be left alone now. I'm sorry I woke you, it was only a nightmare."

"Ebba," Daphne mumbled. "You know you can talk to us if you need to. We've all been through a lot, and none of us are fond of the situation right now."

"_I said_ I'm fine," Hermione growled. "If I wanted to talk about anything, you'd have heard it already. How about the fact that my father was murdered in this school?! HUH? How about the fact that I barely knew him when he was killed by your Headmaster? How about the fact that my mother was killed for being a Muggle? How about the fact that I am supposed to act like none of that bothers me?! You can all piss off, because I am _so_ not in the mood!"

"Right…" said one of the girls. "We're headed to breakfast, but we'll leave Daphne with you. You look like you've had a rough time."

Hermione cringed and put her forehead in her hands and leaned back against the bed. She didn't know how much of these nightmares she could take. She only wish she knew what she'd said in her sleep.

"Daphne?" she said shyly, hoping she hadn't pissed the girl off. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Of course," Daphne said softly. "What's wrong?"

"Did I-" Hermione shook herself, trying to cool off. "Did I say anything in my sleep?"

Daphne screwed her face up in an odd fashion before saying, "No, but you just kept screaming and saying 'get off of me.' You gave us all a right good scare."

"I'm sorry," Hermione groaned. "I didn't mean to disturb all of you. I just have nightmares a lot."

"Want to know a secret?"

"Perhaps, will it get me in trouble?"  
Daphne laughed. "No, it won't. I just want you to know you're not the only one suffering here. We're not all like Pansy. That girl has no brain and we all know it, but that doesn't mean we don't feel. We're human and more than that, we're females. Our emotions are always irrational."

Hermione smiled at Daphne's retreating figure as she got up to get dressed.

"Daphne?" she called. "Thank you."


	5. Fearless

"Ebba, come on," Daphne whined. "We have to go to breakfast."

Hermione felt bad now. She didn't mean to take so long in the shower, but she had an extra yard of hair to wash and she couldn't get through the tangles at the end. Currently, she was pulling on her shoes and almost ready to go eat.

"Sorry," she said, shifting her weight on her feet. "I haven't had my hair this long in a while."

"It's all right," Daphne smiled. "I'll wait downstairs in the common room."

"Thanks." Hermione said, not all sure how to respond. "Who is Goyle? The boy Pansy insulted me with earlier?"

Daphne laughed outright. "He's a fat, ugly bloke who's always stuffing his face and can't perform a simple spell to save his life."

Hermione made a face at that. _So it isn't just Gryffindors who made fun of Crabbe and Goyle._ That was sort of comforting, though she couldn't tell how. Maybe she felt she wasn't as bad of a person for having made fun of them in the past. Merlin only knew how unbelievable righteous and kind Hermione could be. She didn't believe in bullying of any kind.

"He sounds awful," said Hermione. "But he's pureblood?"

Daphne frowned and nodded her head. "One of the few whose marriage contracts activated at birth and I feel awful for whatever unlucky witch has to marry that boy. Rumor says that he's betrothed to a woman at Beauxbaton. Imagine that, they'll be paired in brains at least."

Hermione laughed, grabbed Daphne's hand and made her way down the girls' dormitory stairs.

* * *

They'd made their way down the staircase toward the Great Hall and Hermione started to notice all the stares and whispers sent her way. Obviously the only young Dumbledore left in the world would get a lot of attention and she was used to the stares during her fourth and fifth years, but this was just unnecessary. Even the little third year Ravenclaws were gossiping about her and Ravenclaws weren't known for their big mouths.

"Ignore them," instructed Daphne, glaring at the gaggle of Ravenclaws. "They're just jealous of your beauty."

"My beauty?" she questioned. Hermione knew her appearance was shockingly pretty now, but even then she didn't believe she was beautiful. Her face still held all of Hermione's old features. The only thing that was different about her face was the eyes and nose.

"Of course," said Daphne, obviously confused. "Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"Yes, but I don't think I look all that special."

"Are you joking? You—"

"Daphne!" yelled a man's voice. Looking behind them, Hermione saw the boy she recognized as Kendall Brown. Yes, Lavender's younger sibling.

"Oh, hello Kendall," Daphne smiled a bit too fake. "Have you met Ebba?"

Hermione groaned. "Daphne, I'm not a trophy."

"Of course," she laughed. "Well we were just on our way to breakfast, so make it quick."

"I was wondering if you'd go to Hogsmeade with me." Kendall said, with a very hopeful smile plastered on his face.

Daphne grimaced. "I don't think so. Now leave."

Thoroughly frightened, the younger boy ran off.

"Maybe you should say yes."

"What?"

"Say yes," suggested Hermione. "Make the date awful, be obnoxious, and he'll never ask again."

"That's actually great."

"I know."

She and Daphne laughed and planned out how to ruin Daphne's date with Kendall when they sat down next to Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini.

"What's so funny?" Blaise asked. "Finally see Pansy in her knickers? I threw up for about a week."

Hermione made an ugly face. "Ew. I don't fancy seeing every sexual disease possible."

"No, no," said Daphne. "Ebba's helped me plan the best disaster date to get rid of that annoying fourth year, Kendall Brown."

"Brown?" said Draco. "Lavender Brown's utterly dimwitted family?"

"That's the one," Daphne sang. "And now, I've got the perfect idea to get rid of this annoying twat."

"Fair enough," said Blaise. "But honestly, can we find a way to eliminate Pansy?"

"Good luck," Hermione laughed. "She's like the diseases she carries. She always comes back."

"Speaking of which," Blaise said. "The Headmaster wants to meet you."

Hermione froze. She turned to Daphne and Draco, who both wore looks of terror as well. Would he know? Would he find out? If he did, would he turn her in? Most likely.

"I don't wish to see him," she said, glaring at Blaise. "He killed my father. Why would he even _think _I would want to see him?!"

Blaise looked frightened beyond belief, and Hermione assumed it wasn't the first time he'd been on the receiving end of a woman's angry demands.

"He wants to see you and that's final." Draco said in a monotone voice. "In these times, you'd do well to listen to the Headmaster. He'll help you if you ask. No doubt the Dark Lord already knows of you. How you interact with him determines whether or not _he_ spares you."

"_He?_" she laughed. "Why are you so afraid of Voldemort?"

"Don't speak his name." Daphne warned. "You'd be stupid to do so."

"I'm not afraid of a name, Daphne," she said. "You shouldn't be either."

Draco looked at her oddly. The woman reminded him of someone, though he didn't know exactly who. For a moment he'd though of Granger, but again he knew he was just guilty and feeling wrong for not helping her when he could have. That was the only explanation, wasn't it?


End file.
